


Just Might Get It

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Invisibility, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-03
Updated: 2009-01-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Ryan wakes up invisible because he wanted a taco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Might Get It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for bandom_solstice for the prompt "wakes up with powers." I think invisibility counts, right? 3215 words, any comments always welcome.

Jon wakes up alone.

Not, like, alone in his bed. He'd been alone there when he went to sleep, so he'd expected to wake up that way, too. Just alone in the room that he's sharing with Ryan. He knows he doesn't have to be up because he circles dates that he can sleep late in hotel rooms in red and sometimes draws smiley faces, too. Jon really likes to sleep late, okay? It's not a crime.

Anyway, Jon also doesn't remember Ryan telling him that he'd be going out early, but that's not necessarily reason to worry; he might just be on a coffee run or swimming in the hotel pool. Ryan really likes hotel pools, almost as much as Jon likes sleeping late. There doesn't seem to be a note on Jon's pillow or the bedside table but Ryan's the band's absentminded professor. There's no reason to worry yet.

Jon sits up and yawns hugely, stretching his arms out and flexing his feet to wake them up. The bed is big and soft and warm, and Jon is halfway considering sliding down onto his back again, pulling all of the blankets up to his chin, and going back to sleep.

That idea is shot to hell when someone starts banging on the hotel door. Jon scratches his head. He doesn't think it's housekeeping because he's pretty sure he remembered to put out the Do Not Disturb sign last night, but he'd been tired and buzzed on three minibar bottles of Bacardi.

"Ryan!" Spencer yells. There's more loud banging on the door and Spencer is using his high-pitched, giant emergency voice. "Ryan, let me in!"

Jon grumbles to himself and pulls himself out of cozy bed warmth. It's way too early for band freakouts, and Ryan isn't even _here_.

"What?" Jon says crankily as he pulls open the door. "Ryan's not even here, dude." Spencer doesn't even say anything to Jon, just pushes past him and starts banging on the bathroom door.

Huh. Well, now that Jon thinks about it, he didn't think the door to the bathroom had been closed last night either.

Spencer continues to bang on the bathroom and ignore Jon. "Ryan, you asshole, let me in there."

Brendon appears in the doorway, wearing only a pair of plaid boxer shorts and rubbing his eyes. His hair is sticking in eighteen different directions. "I don't know," Brendon grumbles before Jon can ask. "He dragged me out of my nice warm bed by my ankle and said we had to go next door."

"Ryan, get your skinny ass out here!" Spencer yells and throws Jon his Sidekick. There's a text message from Ryan onscreen, some code that makes no sense to Jon but ends in 911. That's clear enough.

Jon puts his hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Spence, maybe he's not in there. The door might just be closed. We can go look for--"

"He's in there," Spencer says darkly.

Sure enough, the bathroom door swings open and there stands... nothing.

*

There's an indent in the bed but there's no one there. At least, there's no one that Jon can _see_. But Jon is sitting right next to the indent and he can feel heat radiating off of it, and the empty space is speaking with Ryan's voice.

"It's too early for this," Zack says, echoing Jon's thoughts. "I'm going to get coffee. We'll definitely need coffee. You all --" He gestures to Jon, Brendon, Spencer, and Empty Space. "-- have an emergency band meeting."

Jon's shoulders sag as Zack leaves. It's so not fair that five minutes after they got Zack up to speed he gets to escape again. Jon hates emergency band meetings and he wanted to go along for coffee. But invisible fingers squeeze Jon's hand and Jon can tell Ryan's shaking a little.

 

 

So band meeting it is.

"What happened?" Spencer asks. He's taking deep breaths, lots of them. Jon supposes that's understandable when you wake up to an invisible best friend.

"I don't know," Ryan's disembodied voice tells the room. "I just woke up, looked into the mirror and saw nothing. So I texted you... I'm glad you remembered the code."

Spencer sits down on the empty space's other side and moves in so his forehead is pressed against what Jon assumes is Ryan's head. "The code isn't complicated and ends in 911."

Ryan's voice laughs. "That's what we get for never updating the secret codes we made when we were eight."

"This is so fucked up," Brendon says, continuing the trend of other people saying what Jon's thinking. "Wait." He rummages through Ryan's bag and comes up with a fedora with a feather and drops it where Ryan's head seems to be. The fedora hovers mid-air. "It didn't disappear!" Brendon says accusingly.

"You're not helping, Brendon," Ryan says. He sounds deeply annoyed, which under the circumstances makes sense, but Ryan being deeply annoyed with Brendon isn't ever exactly a shocking turn of events.

"I thought it would disappear too," Brendon says. "You know, like everything you touch disappears."

"I'm touching Spencer and Jon," Ryan points out.

Brendon readjusts the hat so it sits a little straighter in the air. "Yeah, but clothes are different." This explains nothing, but no one wants to ask. "So, are you naked?"

"What?" Ryan says. " _No_. I have on a t-shirt and sweatpants."

"Huh. Maybe they disappeared because you already had them on when you turned invisible and if you take them off, they won't be invisible anymore. You should take all of your clothes off and see what happens, Ryan. That's what I would do!"

"Brendon," Jon says, putting his hand on Brendon's wrist, "I don't think you're helping."

*

They eventually piece together what happened after eggs, a lot of coffee, and a lot of questions. When Jon's brain finally manages to get the entire shot into frame, he can only conclude that life's a bitch and then you die -- except for the times when you wake up invisible. He's pretty sure being careful what you wish for isn't supposed to include things that should be physically impossible. And yet here they are.

"So this happened because of _tacos_?" Spencer finally concludes, looking pissed off at the world for hurting his best friend.

Ryan, who's now wearing a floating plum-colored sports jacket that matches his fedora, paces the room. It's still creepy hearing Ryan's voice coming from what appears to be a mobile clothes hanger. "I didn't _really_ mean that I never wanted fans to see me again. I just wanted a taco without a car following me from the venue! Who knew wishes came true sometimes?" The mobile jacket-hat combo slides to the floor, and Jon finds himself hurrying over to sit next to him before he can even think about it.

"We know you didn't mean to wish for that," Jon says. He pats around the end of Ryan's jacket cuff for his hand, then scoots backwards suddenly, his cheeks flaring hot because he definitely hadn't grabbed Ryan's hand. Ryan makes a strange gurgling noise.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want to get naked?" Brendon asks, and Spencer gives him a wet willie. "Fuck off, Spencer!" Brendon screws up his face and rubs at his ear. "He's going to have to shower some time, is all."

"He's not going to stay like this," Spencer says, glaring into nothing again. He makes sure not to focus his gaze in Ryan's direction, though, which Jon thinks is very nice of him.

*

The problem is, though the band meeting concludes with all of them agreeing that Ryan should no longer be invisible, no one actually knows how to make that happen. They check the news to make sure there hasn't been an unexplainable wave of invisible rock stars or males in their early 20's or anyone at all, but everything seems normal. San Diego is sunny and warm with a light breeze. The internet is similarly unhelpful; spontaneous invisibility doesn't happen too often outside of supernatural tv shows and when it apparently does, the claims are pretty dubious. Though Jon learns a lot about Claude Rains.

"Okay," Zack announces once afternoon rolls around and Jon is still holding hands with an invisible guitarist, "since this...whatever hasn't worn off yet, I'm canceling tonight's show."

Everyone agrees except Ryan who quietly exclaims, "No!"

"No?" Jon asks. "It's probably going to look pretty weird when just your guitar comes out on stage."

"But I don't want to disappoint anyone. It's my fault that I'm like this -- I didn't want fans to see _me_ , the rest of you shouldn't suffer," Ryan says.

"I don't want to share my microphone with a Fender," Brendon says. "That's not fun at all."

"You can get someone to sub. Maybe this is supposed to be teaching me a greater lesson about appreciation."

Spencer makes a grunting noise and sprawls himself over approximately Ryan's knees. His head hovers about half a foot over the bed. "Maybe you're a big dumb idiot if you think fate is telling you you're not allowed to get tacos by yourself."

Ryan laughs and Spencer's hair ruffles itself. "God, fine."

Zack leaves to call management and book them an extra night in the hotel. Their publicist cites unspecified illness when they cancel that night's show.

*

The four of them stay up late watching shitty movies and eating pizza together, vetoing Brendon's idea that they buy a bunch of porn instead. No one else believes him when he says that he's never seen _The Da Vinci Load_ anyway.

When Jon can hear Ryan yawning and feel his head growing heavy on his shoulder, he decides it's bedtime. Ryan fell asleep and woke up invisible; maybe if he falls asleep, he'll wake up normal again. Jon doesn't feel too confident in his theory, but he guesses it's worth a shot. He pokes Brendon's ass with his toe.

"What?" Brendon says from his place at the foot of the bed. He sounds like he might have dozed off.

"Bed," Jon says and Spencer mumbles agreeably from Ryan's other side. They shuffle back to their own hotel room, but not before Spencer makes Ryan promise that he'll sleep with his phone next to his head and to call him right away if anything happens.

"What, like if I get _more_ invisible?" Ryan grumbles, but there's an edge of happiness to it. Jon likes to think so, at least; inflection is apparently crucial when dealing with the recently-disappeared but that's always hard to tell with Ryan even when Jon's staring right at him.

Jon tries to fall asleep in his own bed, but he keeps squinting into the dark to make sure the inexplicable lump in the other bed is still there. It's mostly a relief when Jon hears the bed creaking and Ryan getting up. Two seconds later, he crawls under the covers with Jon.

"Ryan?" Jon whispers.

"No. Invisible sleep attacker," Ryan replies. It's the weirdest sensation feeling Ryan bump up along his side, the cotton of his sweatpants rubbing up against Jon's bare legs. Ryan's hair is tickling Jon's nose, but he can't see it. Jon closes his eyes and pretends it's any night in the dark.

Jon shifts onto his side and gropes for Ryan's shoulder, trailing his hand up and down Ryan's arm. He thinks of the games he used to play with his brothers when they were little, the ones where he'd pretend to be blind, his eyes squeezed tight while he let Mike lead him around by the elbow, nudging against walls or walking into banisters. "Are you okay?"

"Mostly," Ryan says. "Like, I was sitting with you and Spencer, and that was normal. Then my nose got itchy and when I scratched it, I couldn't see my hand. It's fucked up." Ryan pauses and shifts closer to Jon again, pushes his leg between both of Jon's and suddenly Jon isn't thinking about the games he used to play with his brothers. "How do I even know I exist?"

Jon wants to laugh and tell him that's too much philosophical bullshit for him if he's not high, but Ryan kisses him then, his lips a little wet like he'd just licked them. They do this sometimes and it's not a big deal; Jon likes kissing and Ryan's good at it, but it doesn't happen that often and, as far as Jon can remember, never when they're sober. And fun drunk Ryan never kisses like this, gripping Jon's hip just this side of too tight and biting at Jon's lips until he opens up and lets Ryan lick his way inside.

"Hey," Jon says after a minute, pushing away and making the mistake of opening his eyes to find himself alone in bed, "what are you doing?"

"Is it." Ryan's voice is small, barely audible, which really doesn't help when Jon can't see him. "I can go back to the other bed."

The covers are thrown back and Jon feels the shift in the bed as Ryan rolls over. He follows, rolling and reaching so he can stop Ryan before he gets up. "No, hey." He grabs a handful of t-shirt. "It was nice, it always is. I just didn't want you to say you were doing it because you were trying to feel something or making sure you were a real boy or something."

Ryan doesn't say anything but lets Jon tug him back down.

"Because you are. You're still Ryan."

"I wasn't going to say that," Ryan says eventually. Jon feels Ryan stretch next to him again. He closes his eyes.

"No?"

"No," Ryan says. "I just wanted to do that. To see if you'd let me."

Jon feels around until he can curl his fingers around Ryan's hair. "Let you."

"It doesn't count if no one sees."

"Ryan," Jon says and tugs Ryan closer again, blindly kissing Ryan's face. He gets a mouthful of eyebrow and makes his way down the bridge of Ryan's nose, tiny kisses over and over leaving a trail to Ryan's mouth. "It counts," he says, lips brushing against Ryan's.

Ryan makes a strangled noise and opens his mouth. Jon's pushing his tongue inside before he can even think about it, his fingers tugging hard on Ryan's hair and swallowing every moan that Ryan makes. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes, catches his tongue hanging out of his mouth and hand formed into a claw and it's so strange to see. He'd be completely turned off in any other circumstance, but when he closes his eyes, he's got Ryan pressed up against him from shoulder to foot, the slick wet heat of Ryan's mouth welcoming.

Jon bucks his hips a little, unintentional when Ryan breaks their kiss to lick his way from Jon's jaw to his neck, sucking.

"You're here, Ryan," Jon gasps and that seems to be the right answer. Ryan trips his long fingers down Jon's chest and twists his nipple through his t-shirt. Jon wants so badly right now it's shocking him. He knows Ryan's hot, but Jon really hadn't pictured this, didn't know how much he wished, didn't realize how much the idea of Ryan disappearing hurt. "You're not going anywhere," Jon growls, suddenly fierce.

"No." Ryan presses his palm flat against Jon's belly and underneath his boxer shorts. " _No_ ," Ryan says again as he rubs his thumb against the slit of Jon's cock, smearing precome over the head. His forehead touches Jon's, dry in comparison to the sweaty heat that makes Jon feel like he's burning up. "I'm not."

Jon has no words for how good it feels, pushing his underwear down and letting Ryan jack him off, long, smooth pulls of his fingers drawing so many noises from Jon's throat. He can feel Ryan hard against his thigh and he fumbles to get his own hand under the elastic band of Ryan's sweatpants to pull Ryan's dick out. His fingers feel short and thick and clumsy in comparison to Ryan's, but Ryan keeps groaning, deep and rumbling against Jon's chest.

"Fuck," Jon grunts, licking Ryan's cheek as he tries to kiss him again. When Ryan sucks Jon's bottom lip into his mouth, Jon can feel his balls drawing up already. "Fuck. Fuck, Ryan."

He pulls away and opens his eyes in just enough time to see his cock standing up by itself, spurting against his stomach, one of his hands curved into a frantically moving circle. He closes his eyes and feels Ryan next to him, panting against Jon's neck, his cock hot and needy against his palm. Ryan's hips jerk closer to him and he puts his hand over Jon's, moving together faster and faster until Ryan's come is mixing with Jon's on his chest.

Jon is still breathing hard when he feels Ryan roll away and off the bed again. "Wait," Jon gasps out, but the mattress bounces and when Jon opens his eyes, a hand towel is floating mid-air. Jon smiles and accepts it to clean himself up, sighing a little and rolling onto his side when Ryan slips under the covers again and throws his arm across Jon's middle.

"This better wear off by morning," Ryan says, just as Jon's dropping off.

"Mmm," Jon says sleepily. "I wanna see you."

Ryan's nose presses against the back of Jon's neck. "Yeah, that. But also because these sweatpants are gross now and I'm not getting naked just for Brendon."

Jon laughs. Just before he falls asleep, he wishes that he could see Ryan again harder than he's ever wished for something.

*

Jon wakes up alone.

No, really alone again. There's no indentation without explanation next to him, no invisible body giving off warmth, just Jon and some dirty sheets. Jon sits up and finds the bathroom door closed again and his stomach drops.

He quietly raps on the door. "Ryan? Are you in there?"

The door opens and Ryan is on the other side, beaming. Jon grins back.

"HEY!" shouts someone who isn't in the room, following up by rapid banging on the door. "Did my wish work?"

Ryan presses a kiss against Jon's forehead, making something in Jon's head go _oh_ , and pushes past him to open the hotel room door. Brendon immediately jumps, wrapping his arms around Ryan's neck and his legs around his waist. They fall to the floor together, probably getting bruised in the process, but they're both laughing so much Jon really doubts either of them care.

"Your wish didn't work, doofus," Spencer says, leaning against the doorway. "It was my wish that worked."

Jon smiles but doesn't say anything. He knows it was him or maybe it was all of them, but when Ryan smiles back and says, "Swear to me none of you will ever wish for anything ever again," Jon can't help making one more.


End file.
